A Very Special Yule
by WindSurfBabe
Summary: One-shot, sequel to Just Like You. Glorfindel and Seena's first Yule approaches. He is looking for the perfect present, and the inhabitants of Imladris give advice.


Disclaimer : I own nothing that obviously belongs to Tolkien.

This is just a little one-shot suggested by one of the reviewers of Just Like You, Nonimouse... Enjoy ! :D

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- A Very Special Yule -

'Trust me, Glorfindel, with a gift like this you can not be wrong.'

The warrior cocked an eyebrow at Erestor's words, and peered at the potential present in the Chief advisor's hands. 'A map' he stated. 'Of Mordor, no less.' He leaned back in his seat. 'What would Seena do with a map of Mordor ?'

'A _detailed_ map of Mordor' corrected Erestor, offended. 'You know how rare such a thing is ? It took me ages to collect the necessary information. It is a highly valuable tactical asset.' Glorfindel snorted. 'I'll be sure to let Seena know that should Sauron return, she'll be able to plan a counter-attack with accuracy.' Erestor glared at him, and the Golden Lord would've enjoyed teasing him further if he hadn't been so desperate.

He sighed. It had been months since he had confessed his love to the young woman, and since she had made him the happiest of elves by reciprocating his feelings and becoming his wife. Now, Yule was approaching, and Seena had told him of the customs of her world : the decorated tree, the feast. The exchange of presents.

The tree had posed no problem, despite Elrond's bewilderment as to where one of his favourite plants had disappeared overnight. The feast would be held in the Hall of Fire during Yule's night. Now for the gifts…

Arwen had hinted that she knew from a reliable source that Seena had found him a gift. The news had sent him into a mild state of panic : he had been dreading this part of the tradition, and it seemed there was no escaping it.

Truth was, he had no idea what to give her. He was loathe to buy his wife jewellery or a gown, since he feared she'd misinterpret the gesture as a hint that he thought she wasn't beautiful or well-dressed enough. But if not female adornments, then what ?

In his desperation, he had turned to Imladris' abyss of knowledge, Erestor. He had been full of hope that the stern Chief advisor to Elrond would be able to put him out of his misery and provide a simple solution to his quest. However, in the light of Erestor's suggestion, he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his choice. After all, the stern councillor was now Middle-Earth's most ancient bachelor.

'If you don't want it, fine' said Erestor, slightly offended. 'You can always get her a book.'

A book. Again. The solution of facility in Glorfindel's opinion, a defeat he refused to suffer. Yet.

Thanking Erestor for his precious help, the Golden Lord exited the study. Something poetic, something light and inspiring, this is what he wanted to give her ; something that spoke of his love for her. Glorfindel almost smacked himself on the forehead when he realized he held the answer.

***

The warrior knew he would find Lindir in the Hall of Fire, entertaining the few guests visiting Imladris at this time of the year. Ladies mostly, it seemed, by the giggles echoing down the corridors. Bracing himself against the inevitable gawking and pointing, Glorfindel strode purposefully to the player. 'Lindir' he said firmly, 'We need to talk.'

The blond elf paled noticeably. Clutching his harp against his chest, he rose uncertainly from his seat, eyes scanning the surroundings for support. 'Y... Yes ?' he smiled shakily, The listeners were beginning to slide their chairs away from him as discreetly as possible, and Glorfindel realized their eyes were drawn to his right hand, unconsciously gripping his sword hilt. He forced it to relax.

'Outside' he added. Lindir gulped.

Even once he was cornered the composer was proving difficult to interrogate, as he kept trembling and casting pleading looks to the passer-bys. Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak, and Lindir flinched away in fear. It seemed the Golden Lord's reputation of fierceness had grown to epic proportions, lately.

Glorfindel swore. 'Damn it, Lindir, stop shaking ! I come in peace.'

The elf seemed to consider this affirmation with obvious distrust, still clutching his instrument in front of him as if it could ward away an angry elf-lord. Finally, he must have reached the conclusion that Glorfindel wouldn't dare maim him in front of so many witnesses, or maybe he believed he wouldn't have the time to damage him too much before help came. In any case, he relaxed noticeably.

'And how can I be of service, my Lord ?' he asked cautiously.

_Finally_, Glorfindel sighed. Hostilities had been suspended, and a parley in progress.

'I am looking for a gift for Seena' he said, leaning forward in order to achieve discretion, and also to make Lindir understand that it was no public material. 'Something beautiful and worthy of her, and I thought that you could be of help.' The revelation seemed to have swept away any doubts Lindir had, for he beamed at Glorfindel. 'I am honoured by your request !' he exclaimed. 'Oh my Lord, rest assured that I will write a song worthy of the love you have for each other, a romance alike to that of Beren and Lúthien themselves...'

Glorfindel frowned. 'Let us not exaggerate' he protested. To no avail.

'A praise to true love at first sight, the tenderness and the innocence...'

Glorfindel choked. 'Tenderness ? Innocence ? Are you mocking me ?!' Seena would laugh in his face if he presented her with such a poem ; it was common knowledge that their beginnings had been everything but tender and besotted.

Leaving Lindir to prattle away at the instant purity of their feelings for each other, he walked away, head hung low in defeat.

Battle was simple. Hack and slash, waddle in blood and be careful to step over the spilled guts if you don't want to trip. This required subtlety, which had never been Glorfindel's forte. The whole art of courtly love seemed to evade his understanding completely, like a treacherous marsh he would sink in. And he had thought admitting his feelings was the hardest part...

He wondered whether he could just swing Seena over his shoulder and run away, like orcs did.

***

'Glorfindel !'

The warrior groaned. He knew those voices, and their cheerfulness usually did not bode well for Imladris. For the love of Eru, why did they not go bother someone else, someone actually entitled to bear with their antics, like their father ? After all, he was the one to blame for their existence.

In fact, right then Glorfindel cared little what sombre deeds brought them into his field of vision ; he only hoped they would disappear. _Go set Imladris afire, chase after elleths, just leave _me_ alone…_

The idea, though utterly horrifying, formed in his mind. Stupid as it was, it also represented his last hope of an original present. Clenching his teeth in dark resolution, and also to ward off the bitter laughter of self-loathing for the depths he had sunk to, Glorfindel spun around. 'You' he growled out. 'Come here.'

The dark-haired twins froze. 'He knows' Elladan whispered into his brother's ear. Immediately, Elrohir stepped away from him. 'I swear, it was Elladan's idea' he said, adopting an air of grievous regret and ignoring his twin's shocked stare. 'I was merely misled and ill-advised, following him out of pure brotherly love.'

'Traitor' the beloved brother muttered darkly, glaring at him.

Glorfindel raised his hands in a gesture of peace. 'I do not care what mayhem you have unleashed this time' he sighed. 'It is your advice that I need – though it is clearly madness, and I have finally gone insane.'

The twins grinned, looking relieved. 'We'll be glad to help you' they said in unison. 'What is it you need assistance with ?'

The golden-haired warrior rubbed his eyes tiredly. _Last chance_, he reminded himself, smothering his pride that screamed out in protest. 'I need to find Seena a present for Yule.'

Elladan looked disappointed at first, but brightened considerably when his brother nudged him in the ribs and muttered something into his ear. 'Oh, that… That's easy' he said, walking towards Glorfindel. With a triumphant look towards his twin, he repeated the words to the Chief of Guards.

Glorfindel felt his face blaze as a fierce blush crept up his neck and spread out on his cheeks, finally reaching the tips of his ears in its crimson glory. Muttering an unintelligible threat, he swung on his heels and hurried away from Elladan's laughter. He would've gladly killed the one making such an offer, but reminded him that this were Elrond's sons ; his friend's sons and his protégés. Still, it was very tempting.

The suggestion… He dared not imagine the scene, the words replaying in his mind their obscene little dance, incrusted in his brain. He'd have to gouge his eyes out if he wanted to ever get rid of the picture.

He sank onto a bench in the garden, oblivious of the snow that fell softly and melted on his hair and tunic. How hard could it be, to find a suitable present for his beloved Seena ? He knew she would be happy with whatever he gave her, even the map of Mordor : she'd have it hung on the wall, to show how proud she was of him. But he wanted to _really_ please her – the memory of Elladan's idea raised its head again, and was resolutely shoved away. To show her how much he loved her, how loved and special and magnificent she made him feel in return. Something from the heart.

Glorfindel dejectedly kicked a piece of a fallen branch that lay on the ground, then picked it up, idly tracing the patterns with his fingers. It was wet and cold as he brushed off the sparkling snowflakes, the wood dark after soaking up the humidity ; but he knew that if it was correctly dried, it would take a nice golden hue that reflected firelight.

Glorfindel smiled as he stood up. He knew just what to do, now ; it was simple and personal, and he was certain that Seena would be delighted more than if he presented her with a gown. Shrugging away the snow accumulated on his shoulders, the warrior went to fetch his cloak.

***

'May I see now ?' asked Seena, stumbling slightly as Glorfindel led her in, his hand securely preventing her from peeking at her present. He stilled her in the centre of the room, and snaked his other arm around her waist, drawing her close. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against the skin of her neck – she giggled at the tickling sensation – and inhaled her scent, so intoxicating and sweet. 'You may' he purred against her skin and lowered his hand.

Seena opened her eyes and gasped, clasping her hands together in child-like wonder. 'Oh, Glorfindel… It's beautiful !' She took a step forward, and he released her reluctantly, consoling himself with the thought that she was his, now, as long as they both lived ; silencing the beast inside that growled possessively each time someone else approached her.

He watched his wife walk towards the tree that stood beside the fireplace. Amongst the green branches, the wooden decorations glinted golden in the soft light of the flames. Seena brushed her fingers on one of them : a miniature mûmak. It had taken him hours to make them, carving each one lovingly, freeing them from the chunk of wood. 'It is breathtaking' she whispered. 'Glorfindel… Thank you.' She turned around to embrace him, and he eagerly pulled her closer, enjoying the warmth radiating from her body. _Mine_.

He tilted her head towards his face and leaned down, savouring the feeling of her soft lips on his. The inner beast stirred and purred. _Mine_.

'I have also a surprise for you' whispered Seena against his mouth, smiling. Taking his right hand in her smaller ones, she pulled it towards her stomach until it rested on the soft fabric of her dress. Glorfindel frowned in incomprehension and she smiled ; a smile so serene and happy that she was positively aglow. 'Happy Yule, _meleth_' she said.

And Glorfindel understood, his hand suddenly trembling as he tried to feel in his palm the beating of a third heart, still so tiny and already so adored. 'Seena…' His voice was hoarse with emotion. There were no words to describe what he felt then, no metaphors or images to conjure. If he hadn't been experiencing it, he would've believed that such bliss could not exist.

Giving up on shallow, meaningless words, he pulled his wife into his embrace, hiding his grin in her hair. She had been right, as usual. Yule was a time for happiness and family – _his_ family -, a time to rejoice, and even more from now on.


End file.
